


You Saw Me

by heartofsatu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco/Harry - Freeform, Drarry, F/M, Harry/ Draco - Freeform, M/M, Malfoy/potter - Freeform, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 04:46:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15332091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartofsatu/pseuds/heartofsatu
Summary: Harry Potter has been having visions since he first found out he was a Wizard. That's nothing new. But a year after Voldemort's death, and pale, slender fingers re-enter his dreams. Only this time those hands are young, and strong, and when Harry wakes from these new visions, he swears someone must be trying to smother him and set him on fire from the inside!





	You Saw Me

"Harry...? I don't think he's listening. Harry? HARRY!" Ron's voice came to him, hazy around the edges as if carried through water, then blown on the wind... strange... morphed... impossible... And yet there it was. Filtering through his ears as if... pale... white... bony... 

"HARRY!" This time it was Hermione, and her hand on his shoulder yanked him forcefully back to the present. Blinking hard and gasping for air, the golden boy turned towards her. 

"What?" he asked, catching his breath as his friends stared at him with concern.

"Harry, Ron has been talking to you for the past thirty minutes and you've just been staring off into space... Are you doing okay?" asked Hermione, voice much quieter now as she removed her hand and watched him. Ron looked hurt, too, but moved to Harry's other side and reached up to give his wild, dark hair a gentle ruffle.

"You've been like this for a week now. What's going on with you?" he asked now, watching as Harry bowed his head and tried to clear his mind. 

"Honestly... no..." Harry knew he had to say something- he knew he couldn't go on like this! He was walking down the middle of the street and the sun was well into the sky and he didn't even remember waking up that morning! Yet here he was, with Ron and Hermione, apparently on auto-pilot through the whole thing! Ron glanced around the near empty street and motioned for them to enter a shop- A new stationary shop he vaguely remembered opening last month- and Hermione nodded, urging them all inside. Harry took a deep breath of the familiar scent- like Hermione, only minus the sweet smelling shampoo she used. The ink and parchment was familiar and comforting. Not at all like pale white skin, long, slender fingers, and thick, black lines of ink. 

"Harry, please, TELL us. We're here for you. You know that." Hermione whispered now, moving closer to him and tugging gently at his sleeve while Ron took up his other side, leaning against a shelf and somehow still looking like some sort of bodyguard. He had really filled out over the past few years, and his now ill-fitting clothes seemed to complain for a whole different reason. He was athletic, of course, but there was something more comforting about him than just his physical build. His posture, personality, his BEING was comforting, just like Hermione's soft, sweet voice and the ink-and-parchment scent mixed with her sweet smelling shampoo. All of it combined relaxed Harry, and he took another deep breath, brushing his hair out of his face now as he glanced up at both of them. 

"I... started having visions again..." He finally admitted, and the quiet gasp he earned from Hermione was exactly what he expected. The half-growled 'WHAT?!' From Ron wasn't too far behind. "But it's not Voldemort." Harry was quick to explain. 

"Not him? How do you know? Who is it if it's not him? Have you been having these dreams all week? Is that why you've been so worked up- so distant? Harry--" Hermione started again, her brows pinched in the way they did when she was determined to get to the bottom of something. Harry held up his hands now, though, and shook his head. 

"I'm not SURE how I know, I just... know... Besides, they're not his hands." Harry tried, and licked his lips nervously.

"Not his hands? What does that mean?" Ron was the one to speak up now, and Harry swallowed hard again. 

"Well, it's just that, in my visions... They're... They're not his hands- they're younger. Stronger. It's someone really pale, yea, but they've got younger hands. With long fingers- and really well groomed nails and..." Maybe he had better skip the details of the hands for now. It was just that they were SO DIFFERENT from Voldemort's that Harry had taken special notice. "And there's this thick, dark ink... a... a tattoo, I think. But it's all broken up, and pale in some places... Like it was scraped away or something, I don't know... But every time I have the vision, I always feel something covering my mouth- something hot and... It feels soft- too soft to pull away... like... like some sort of scarf made of flesh..." Harry saw Hermione shiver and wrap her arms around herself. "And I feel like I'm in some sort of furnace- burning alive... and I can't breathe..." 

"That sounds terrible, mate..." Ron half whispered, and gulped hard. Harry could only nod at this, though, and give his own gulp. "Wh... who do you think it could be? Think they're trying to kill you, too?"

"Ron!" Hermione glared at him, but the redhead only clenched his jaw. 

"Hey, it's a valid question, 'Mione! The only PALE GUY Harry ever had a dream about was trying to kill him- I mean, I know... I know he's dead, but... Let's be serious about this. We should be telling someone- We should try and get in contact with the Ministry- with Dumbledore!" Ron hissed back at her. Hermione winced at his truth, but tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced around to see if anyone else was listening. Someone had just come into the store, but Harry had had his head down. 

"I hate to say it... but Ron might have a point, Harry... At the very least, let's stop by and see Snape or Dumbledore." she sighed.

"Snape? Why Snape?" Ron demanded- he had understood all of the crazy events and shocking reveals that happened last year, but it wasn't like you could just flip a switch and think of someone differently overnight... especially not someone as continuously callous as Snape. 

"Well, he was Harry's Occlumency teacher, wasn't he? If anyone would be able to help him- maybe it would be Snape... and Dumbledore would be able to help if it really is something else." she explained, cooling Ron's building tantrum before it could even start. At least there was a second option- and it wasn't like Harry hadn't had lessons before. It wasn't as if Snape wasn't still a professor. He was the perfect professor for Harry- in occlumency, that was. Something familiar tickled the back of Harry's mind, but he couldn't quite grasp it and his head hurt just thinking about it anyway, so he let it go. 

"Yea... you're right, Hermione. I guess I'll make a stop by there after this..." Now, he finally glanced around, and thought he caught a glimpse of something pale from the corner of his eye. When he glanced around, though, it was just some tall guy with light hair walking around a corner. He turned back to his friends.

"But, what do you think it means? I mean, you being all hot- struggling to breathe... is there going to be a fire or something?" Ron half murmured, deep in thought now. 

"That's what I was thinking. But it didn't just feel like that- it felt like something was covering my mouth, too..." Harry remembered. 

"Like a scarf of flesh...?" supplied Hermione helpfully, and Harry frowned, skin prickling just thinking about it. 

"Yea... I don't know what to think about it... but I don't want to start another year... this year... like this. It's our last year. I just... Just want to be normal for once." Harry finally sighed, reaching up and scrubbing his hand through his hair. 

"Yea, mate, if anybody, you deserve that. We're right here with you" urged Ron, reaching over to lay a gentle hand in his hair, too. Hermione reached out to brush a few locks down as well, as if to undo all the damage the boys had just done. 

"Ron's right- we've done it before. We'll do it again..." she encouraged, and again, Harry was struck with the comfortable familiarity of it all. Nothing at all like the long, pale fingers.

____________________________________________________

 

It seemed the wizarding fates had a sense of humor, though. After all, why else would he get back to to Hermione's after dropping off heavy armsfull of the latest new year's school supplies and have her parents start on a huge, happy tangent about the comparisons between the human and wizarding worlds so intense that he was only able to get away by the tactful grace of Hermione's quick mind and a convenient fireplace. Why else would Snape seem shocked- them amused- to hear from Harry? Why else would he encourage Harry to hurry over now, instead of waiting to go and talk with Dumbledore first? Why else would Harry, apparating to Snape's sitting room like he had so many times before to visit the professor when he had just got home from the hospital, come face-to-face with long, slender fingers as pale as bone? Why else would those long, pale, slender fingers lead up to strong, taught forearms? Lean, wired biceps? Broad shoulders hidden behind a deep blue button-up? 

Before Harry could stop himself, he was stumbling forward, and those pale arms caught him- flashing thick, faded cords of black ink before his eyes. "Potter!" the gasp filled his ears. as Harry struggled back to his feet. He hadn't fallen while apparating in months! 

"Malfoy!" Harry struggled, brushing his hair out of his face as he glanced around, confused. 

"Wonderful, we all know each other's names now. Please, no need to say mine. I know it already." came the familiar, drawling voice from the door, and Harry span around just as Draco reached to yank down the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. 

"But- I... Professor, I have to talk to you. It's really important..." Harry tried to push the sudden uncomfortable feeling out of his head and concentrate instead on what he had been meaning to come over for in the first place. That same gnawing feeling of familiarity raced through his mind now, though he still didn't have the power to grasp it. 

"Yes, as you've said before. Have a seat. Malfoy." Snape motioned towards the chairs and Harry felt his knees go weak again, this time with relief. Still- he glanced curiously over at Draco again. What was he doing there? He knew that Draco and Snape were close, especially since the incident with Dumbledore, and since Snape had been on the path to recovery. It wasn't all that rare for Harry to bump into Draco on the off chance that they happened to be visiting the rather large house at the same time, but the moments were always fleeting and awkward. To see Draco awkwardly settle himself down on the other side of the couch, Harry couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong. 

"Professor, this... This is something... that has to do with occumency..." Harry started, glancing over towards Draco again. He was slowly regaining composure, though he hadn't said a word since Harry's name a few moments ago. Somehow, seeing Draco calming down again was better- more comforting to Harry. Comforting... That word was coming up over and over again these days. 

"Oh? Then you'll be grateful Malfoy is here. He's an exceptional Occlumens," was Snape's cool reply as he reached for a cup. Harry only just then noticed the tea platter set out, filled with tea and cups and cookies. Draco reached out as well, taking up a cup. "No need to look so shocked, Harry. Though I suppose that for you, knowing that someone the same age can successfully close off ones mind, calming their thoughts and steeling their emotions against manipulation must be quite the wound to your precious pride." 

"Wh...?" Harry blinked hard, and turned his attention back to Snape, struggling to listen to what he was saying. It wasn't that his pride was hurt. No- his pride was just fine. This didn't have anything to do with his pride. This had to do with the fact that Draco's long, slender fingers were pale and bony and more toned than Harry had expected, with perfectly manicured nails. "No, Professor, it's not... not that..."

"Well, then, what is it, Potter? Do you require more lessons? Would you like to schedule more now, before the semester begins?" Snape wondered.

"No, it's just that I've been having visions again. And not of Voldemort this time. I don't know what it's about, but I'm really sick of going through each and every year fearing for my life. I just want to get to the bottom of this and start the year off right." Harry finally said, blinking himself back into the present. Draco still hadn't said anything. He just sat there. With his perfect hands. Sending rivers of doubt and fear through the golden boy.

"Is that do?" Snape's voice was drawn out a bit more than it usually was- in a tone that Harry understood as him realizing something he felt he should have known long ago. Draco snapped his attention to the professor, and so did Harry, a moment later. 

"Why did you say it like--" Harry started, brilliant green eyes narrowing as he felt hostility rise in his chest.

"Tell me your visions." Snape shot out before Harry could even finish.

"In front of Draco?" Harry winced a bit.

"I really should be going-" Draco started to set his tea cup down.

"In FRONT of Malfoy, yes. Or have you forgotten everything we've talked about? How hard he's worked to prove which side he was truly on- why am I, the very right hand of evil himself, privy to your thoughts and fears and yet not Draco Malfoy, an innocent boy caught in the middle who suffered nearly as much immediate pain as you did by that very evil?" The malice in Snape's voice made Harry feel like he could wither and die just then. It wasn't THAT! It was just... Harry glanced over to Draco again, and saw the completely closed expression on his face. Harry couldn't read anything! No wonder Draco was such a good Occlumens. 

"Professor, it's just that I don't even know what to make of it- if it ends up something dangerous for even me to know... what good is putting others in danger?" Harry tried now. Snape looked entirely unamused. 

"How thoughtful of you, then, to limit your danger to the only one who truly matters, Potter... If you don't truly need my help as urgently as you once said, I CAN get back to my private lessons with Malfoy and you WILL be dismissed." As always, Snape had no time for Harry's roundabout ways. Sighing, the golden boy clenched his hands into fists in his lap. Like Ron, Harry had filled out over the years. He wasn't as bulky as Ron- he was more lithe and wired, with shoulders a bit more narrow and muscles a bit less cut and a bit more corded. His frame wasn't quite as tall either. He wasn't SHORT, he was sure, but he wasn't extremely tall. Not was tall as Malfoy. Harry was maybe three or four inches shorter than Malfoy. Nsot that that mattered... His hands were also much more different than Malfoy's. Where Malfoy had long, slender, pale fingers with veins rippling against the backs and tendons visibly manipulating their charges, Harry's fingers were thicker, his hands more worked- his nails were shorter, and often bitten if Hermione didn't get ahold of him soon enough. He had scars, laced all around them. Some from playing sports together with some of the muggle-born wizards in the past year, some from practicing spells and charms and jinxes. Some from the war. Some from digging graves. They had veins running behind them, sure, but they weren't as visible as Draco's, and his tendons didn't stand out like that, as if just waiting to be pulled. They were richer in color, not all paper white and pink at the knuckles and palms and tips. Swallowing hard, Harry turned his attention to Snape and nodded quietly. 

"The truth is, I've been having these... dreams... over the past week or so... It's been bothering me so much, I can't keep from thinking about it. I think it must be someone with a tattoo or something..." Harry took a deep breath and tried to start over. "I've been having these dreams and visions of someone with extremely pale hands, and long, long fingers. They've always got this mark... like... Like a Dark Mark on their arm, but it's not that. All I can make out is thick lines of ink, all black and almost seared into the skin, but at some parts, the lines are missing. And some parts, it's just pale... Like... Like someone tried to scrape their mark out of their own skin... And in the visions, the hands are always... Reaching and holding and grabbing- and it suddenly gets so hot, I can't breathe. Then it feels... It's like I'm suffocating. Because something's over my mouth. Something like... something warm and soft and... I'm terrified because I can't breathe anymore, but when I reach up to try to take it away, it's wrapped around my face. And it's so long, it just keeps going- pale and slender and soft and hot- like some sort of scarf of flesh..." Now, Harry shuddered, hands reaching up to brush at his own prickling skin as if to dispel the heat of it before he glanced up to Snape. "It's so frustrating- I can't figure out what it means, and I can't even begin to imagine who it could be. If it's not Voldemort, who could it be? Who else could get into my head?"

"Apparently, any decent Legilimens that thinks about you hard enough," came the snarky comment, sending Harry reeling. 

"What? Professor, I'm serious! I felt like I was about to die- like everything was on fire! My body was burning from the inside out and I was being smothered to death!" Harry raged, standing now. He looked to Draco for help, but found no solace there as the other young man simply stared down at his tea. 

"Yes, and so am I. I've told you before that you are too vulnerable where it truly matters. And it is true- any decent Legilimens can break into that pathetic film you call a barrier over you mind any time they tried if their will power was strong enough. Some could even do it in their dreams." Snape took a sip of his tea, as if this didn't effect him at all! "You're always going to have problems like these unless you learn to control your mind." Harry wasn't sure if Snape was talking to him or Malfoy, though he didn't understand how it was relate to THAT stony face. Finally, Snape glanced back at him. 

"You sound as if you're sure I'm not in any danger..." Harry felt himself slump back into the chair. 

"Oh, I am sure you are in a LOT of danger, Harry Potter. It seems to be your forte." Snape took another sip of coffee. "But, your previous visions all told you something very specific- in flashes and clips. You seem so sure of this vision that it seems less LIKE a vision and more like a dream."

"If it was just a dream, I wouldn't be feeling like this, Professor. Those thoughts... They weren't mine- those images... I was seeing them through someone else's eyes. That's not normal- normal people can't do that..." He tried to explain, though now that his complaints seemed to be invalidated, he was already thinking of his next place of visit. If he couldn't get Snape to believe him, maybe Dubledore would. He was still just a portrait... but he had helped Harry out so much! He had been a constant beacon of hope, voice or reason, and loyal companion. HE would believe Harry. 

"Yes, so it seams. Only people who are the exact opposite of YOU, with strong minds even stronger habits of study, could do this. Someone with the ability to do exactly what you seem incapable of, which is shutting down your mind and compartmentalize, protecting yourself by guarding your emotions. For some reason, you seem to think that means REMOVING your emotions entirely, when that is clearly not the case." Snape droned on, until Harry glared up at him. 

"If you're not going to help me with the problem I have now, then I'll go and find someone who will. With all due respect, Professor, this is my life we're talking about and I have no desire to just let you make a joke of it. If someone's playing around in my head and it's NOT Voldemort, I want to find out who it is and why, and STOP whatever fire they're planning." growled the golden boy, standing up and making for the center of the room again. 

"That's no use, Potter. I've put up the shields again, and you can no longer apparate inside the house." the professor sighed, and took yet another sip of tea. 

"Then I'll use the front door!" Harry was in no mood for this, and started to make his way towards the door. He could hear Draco and Snape talking in low, quiet voices as he made his way through the house, but he could care less. All he wanted now was to get as far away from Snape as he could. He just couldn't understand how Snape could be so dismissive at a time like this! When there could be another wizard just as powerful as Voldemort lurking around, playing games of burn-em-up inside Harry's mind! Harry was so involved in his own fuming that he hardly noticed the front door open again after he was already down the front stairs and out onto the long driveway that lead to the long country road beyond. He was only drawn out of his anger by a hand on his arm. 

"Harry!" Draco sounded as if he had been calling the golden boy for a while now. Harry yanked his arm away, sure he was going crazy, mind still thinking about the visions and associating ANY touch with the touch of THOSE pale, slender hands and the fire they created. 

"What?!" He span around, eyes wide, angry. Draco froze where he was, and for the first time Harry noticed how close they were. He quickly took a step back. "What is it, Malfoy? I'm in a hurry."

"I... Was just going to tell you that if you're not willing to take extra occlumency lessons from Snape, I might be able to help." Draco cleared his throat as Harry stared at him. 

"What?" Harry was starting to wonder if that was the only thing his mouth was capable of saying lately.

"If you don't feel comfortable with taking extra occlu-" Draco started, hands falling to his sides, posture stiff. Just as Harry remembered- it was always awkward, now, to talk with Draco.

"I heard you. I mean... Why would you offer...? You heard what I said- this could be dangerous. It could be another Voldemort." Harry tried. The way Draco's jaw twitched made him wonder if he should maybe think about not saying that name so easily around him. Draco had had the man- the monster- living in his house, after all. 

"I wasn't able to do anything of my own free will before- I could never stand up for myself- do what I really wanted. I could never approach you, or talk to you... I want thinks to be different- I'm trying to start over. Be someone... who fights for what he wants. Believes in." Draco's jaw worked again, and the way his eyes bore into Harry somehow reminded the golden boy of ice so cold it burned. 

"You... don't have to do this to make up for what happened in the war, Malfoy. I forgive you- I already told you that. I knew you didn't have a choice. You didn't kill Dumbledore, and you people you DID hurt, you did it because you didn't really have a choice or know any--" Harry started. Draco took another step forward and they were right back where they started, too close.

"That's not what I'm talking about... Let me do this. I'm fighting for this." Draco looked so determined that Harry had to swallow hard and take another step back. 

"A... Alright- but not before I go and talk to Dumbledore about it. I can't just pretend like this isn't dangerous- the last time I waited too long to tell anyone, people got hurt. I'm not taking any chances this time." Harry frowned, turning around. Draco fell into step beside him. 

"I'll send an owl to you to tell you when I'm available, then. Where are you staying now?" It was a surprisingly calm, collected, rational question after all of that. Harry wondered if ANYONE would take his visions seriously! They had all been so passionate about them before the war! Now that things seemed over, no one seemed to believe him. Somehow, it was TOO MUCH like the war. 

"I stay with the Weasley's now- I think I'll get my own place after the..." Harry swallowed hard, reminding himself that the war was over. He could get his own place. He had enough money. But... 

"I see. Then I'll send my owl there. For now I'm staying with Professor Snape, but we could find another neutral place to meet up and practice." Draco said calmly. Harry glanced over at him.

"Is your mum doing better...?" Harry wasn't sure if this was the BEST thing to ask, since the last time Harry had heard, she was having such a hard time emotionally that she hardly had the strength to even get up out of bed. With her husband serving time in prison for supporting Voldemort after months and months of exhausting court trials, Draco had made the difficult decision to seek professional help. Harry had overheard some bits and pieces of conversations between Draco and Snape, but had never quite thought about what that might mean for Draco. He had been so busy with his own life, his own trials, his own emotional turmoil, that he hadn't even been able to fully concentrate on anything else until the past few weeks... When the visions started. 

"Better..." Draco said the word as if it was foreign to him, then straightened his back. "She's fighting hard. I'm proud of her for that." was what he said, and Harry pressed his lips together. 

"Yea... I should visit her sometime... do you think it would... ah... help...? She saved me- for you... I don't think I could ever thank her enough." Harry muttered now, looking away. He wondered if Draco was ever told that someone was proud of HIM for fighting so hard. "Even after I hurt you."

"Once. Potter, you hurt me once. And I'd done plenty before that to deserve it." Draco's hand went up the front of his shirt, and Harry wondered, not for the first time, if he had scars. 

"That doesn't make it right." The determination in Harry's voice must have decided the draw then, because Draco's hand fell and he tugged at his long sleeves. 

"I'm sure she'll enjoy the visit. Not many people come." Draco finally said, and slowed his pace. They were almost to the edge of the drive. "It's safe to apperate from there. The road is long and lined with trees." he explained as they got to a sort of arching, tree lined welcome just inside the gates. Harry nodded, and turned towards him.

"Thanks... Malfoy, I really appreciate you helping me with Occlumency... I don't know why Snape isn't taking me seriously about this. He didn't even look like he wanted to take me seriously." The golden boy now frowned. Darco's jaw worked again.

"He's always been a strict teacher of his students first and foremost. I'm sure that he thinks since... He... is gone, the threat to us in the wizarding world is gone... but there are still people with closed minds- still discrimination... He might not see it as something to worry about because there are laws being made to prevent them, but... I know that sometimes that could mean there's a whole battle to be fought." said Draco, his voice lower- more resonant than before. Harry shivered now as a breeze passed between them, and swallowed hard. 

"Yea... That's what I'm afraid of..." he muttered. Draco looked up at him- into his eyes- and Harry felt himself frozen to the spot. Well, more like the soles of his feet had been melted into the earth. 

"I'll fight by your side this time, Potter. I'm willing to lay down my life, if I have to." The words were so intensely passionate, and Draco was staring so deep into his eyes that Harry had to force himself to look away. 

"Thank you..." It sounded weak in comparison, but what else could Harry do? Say? Taking a deep breath, Harry turned away again, and took a step into the archway. He thought firmly of the beautiful wizarding town just beyond the campus. Of the winding roads, the homey shops. It wouldn't be too busy this time of year, just before the semester was supposed to start. But it was so familiar to him that it hardly took long at all for him to feel the firm yanking and close his eyes, knowing exactly which part of the road his feet would land on.

____________________________________________________

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys- I'll keep updating this... but tell me what you think? It's my first one and I'm kinda nervous but I've had this idea in my head for a while.


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